


a mental breakdown but in slow motion this time

by countcarmine



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Character Study, Dehumanization, Gen, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Slow Build, Speculation, heavy alcohol use in chapter 3, one long existential crisis, sephiroth asserts himself through nudity, some seph/cloud but it'll take awhile, some violence, there is an anecdote about people being weird and touchy about sephiroth's hair in chapter 6, why are we here? just to suffer? every day i get emails
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:15:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24655969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/countcarmine/pseuds/countcarmine
Summary: How long has he known that this has all happened before? How many times? Even when the Planet eventually dies, he will never end.
Relationships: Sephiroth/Cloud Strife
Comments: 93
Kudos: 94





	1. Every Day I Get Emails

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sephiroth asserts his boundaries through nudity. Tseng isn't paid nearly enough for this.

Sephiroth never answers his emails. He never even opens them anymore.

It’s never anything pressing. If it’s actually important, it’ll either be a phone call or an in-person meeting. Lazard is practically his secretary at this point instead of his boss (He’d always correct them with “Union director”. He never liked the word “boss”.) Tseng would always keep him up to date, but only if they ran into each other. At this point, Hojo communicates exclusively through emails and condescending one-liners, so it is completely understandable why Sephiroth conveniently stopped checking his years ago. Most of them are scheduled medical check-ups anyway. If Hojo truly had something important to say, he’d talk to his boss (sorry, “director”).

Sephiroth has worked painstakingly to control who talks to him, when, where, why, and how long, which is why the knock on his bathroom door is so jarring. He jumps a bit in the tub and looks at the slightly open door before groaning and sinking further into the water. No, no. Noooo. No, thank you. There’s another knock and Sephiroth sinks completely underwater, in something big enough to be considered a hot tub, suddenly interested in how long he can hold his breath. Whoever is at the door doesn’t leave, knocking louder while refusing to come inside, so if nothing else, they’re being remarkably polite about the whole thing. After one minute and seventeen seconds, Sephiroth comes up for air and the mystery person finally speaks.

“Sephiroth?”

“… _Tseng?_ ” What on Earth? How much of an emergency is it when Tseng appears in his living quarters? Sephiroth starts to get up but Tseng coughs, almost stumbling over his next words.

“N-No, don’t get up. I just needed confirmation about the Banora mission?” _Banora?_ He already said he wasn’t going. What more confirmation could they possibly need? And since when did he need to tell Tseng? That’s it, he’s getting up. Bath time is over. As soon as he’s out of the bath he can hear Tseng take a sharp, uncomfortable breath. What’s his problem?

“The director just needs a yes or no answer-“

“No.”

“-and a recommendation for a replacement, if any.”

Ah. Sephiroth grabs a towel and walks over to the door. By the time he looks through the open crack, Tseng still has his back to the door and is looking off to the side. His dedication to the basics of politeness is admirable, he has to admit.

“Does it have to be now?”

Tseng shrugs. “The director was waiting all day for a response and got worried.” That… _can’t_ be right. Sephiroth already told him he wasn’t going. He already refused.

“…I already said I’m not going.”

“Not what I heard.”

“You’re _sure_ -“

“Don’t shoot the messenger. All right?” Tseng sighs, still looking out the window, and Sephiroth isn’t sure what he’d prefer: his decency being protected or Tseng actually looking at him when he talks. “I can’t clock out empty-handed. I’m sorry.”

“…Right.” Okay, fine. That’s strange, though. He could have sworn he talked to Lazard about this. As in, physically going into his office to talk. Did he just have a pretend argument about in his head? It’s not like Lazard would say no. Even if he couldn’t help you, he’d at least listen and see what could be done about a problem. He thought that conversation happened! He must have meant to head over to the office and then forgot about it. “You can, uh…have a seat, if you want.”

“I wouldn’t want to keep you-“

“No, it’s…fine. I need to get my head straight.” Apparently. “Go on.”

So…what to do about Angeal and Genesis.

Obviously Sephiroth isn’t going after them. He’s disappointed that they’ve gone rogue, but SOLDIER only sends out the people best suited for a job. If two First Class SOLDIERs are missing, along with an unknown number of Second and Third class members, sending Sephiroth doesn’t exactly imply de-escalation. Even if this is “too personal”, they aren’t expecting Angeal or Genesis to come back alive. They stole company secrets. He _knows_ he’s being sent out there to kill them.

It’s the only thing he’s really good at. Killing. So..he isn’t going. If he has to think of someone else to pick up this job, so be it.

“Want anything?” Sephiroth roots around in the fridge, reaching for a couple bottles of coffee-flavored milk. Still naked, towel draped around his head and shoulders like he’s wearing a shawl. He looks up again, into the commons area, and sees Tseng sitting on the couch with his hand covering his eyes. He clears his throat.

“I’m…all right.” Sephiroth can’t help but chuckle a little. He must confess…it’s fun, seeing the quintessential Turk sit there in embarrassment. It might be mean, but maybe drawing this out a bit longer will teach him to not drop in unannounced. No matter what Tseng says, he brings two drinks over, sliding into the seat next to him. Holding out a bottle of coffee milk. Tseng takes it, if only out of politeness, and holds it with both hands while he stares at the floor.

“…So! I’m not going.”

“I…gathered.”

“And I need to find a replacement?”

“If you can. I’m sure they can find someone for you.”

“Hmm.” Sephiroth pops the cap off his coffee milk and takes a sip, sliding his other arm across the top of the sofa, just above Tseng’s shoulders, in what can only be described as a dominance display. Tseng continues to sit there, staring at the floor.

“Do you, um…have someone in mind?”

“Could you please look at me when you’re talking?” Slowly, Tseng turns to look at him. Thin-lipped, stone-faced. Eyes locked onto Sephiroth’s. He utterly refuses to look down past his neck.

“I could report this as sexual harassment, you know.”

“I _live_ here.” Tseng doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t look away either. He just continues to stare, clearly not in on the joke, but that doesn’t stop Sephiroth. “What are they going to do? _Fire me?_ ” Tseng closes his eyes and sighs in annoyance, turning away.

“I get it. I should have waited until tomorrow. You made your point.”

“What if I want to be fired?”

Tseng gives him this _look_ that is two seconds away from him calling for backup. Not scared or anything, just… _done_. Have someone else deal with whatever this is.

“You don’t mean that.”

“No, I’m serious. What would it take for me to get fired, I wonder?” He’s never actually thought about it until now. If he doesn’t go rogue, but stops going on missions, could they afford to find someone else? He’s been with the company as long as he’s been alive, as far as he knows. You’d think that he was left on President Shinra’s doorstep in a basket. No one’s ever fully explained how they even knew his mother either. Would they just…let him leave?

Tseng reaches out, slowly, gently taking the towel still draped around Sephiroth’s shoulders, and pulls on it until it settles in Sephiroth’s lap. He never breaks eye contact the entire time.

“I think,” Tseng says, giving Sephiroth a gentle pat on his knee and speaking low enough so the room’s cameras can’t pick up the audio, “it probably isn’t appropriate to say that when the rest of your team is missing.” He nods, prompting Sephiroth to also nod in agreement, which means that specific line of conversation is over. If Tseng’s implying what Sephiroth thinks, then he probably doesn’t want to know the answer to that question. And Tseng doesn’t want to give that answer.

“…Sure.” Sephiroth takes another drink and Tseng nods again, removing his hand and finally opening his own bottle. There’s still a warm spot where his hand was. For some reason, Sephiroth kind of wishes it were still there. “Um. I’ll think of something.”

“Thanks.” Tseng leans back and it’s then that Sephiroth notices his right arm sprawled across the top of the couch, which he completely forgot about and sheepishly retracts. “I get it. It’d be too personal, right?”

“Personal?” The word is said in such a dumb, clueless way that it makes Sephiroth cringe afterward and Tseng raise an eyebrow at him in disbelief.

“The…mission?” Sephiroth has the sudden urge to get up and get dressed, just to hide his face, and when he does so that still doesn’t derail the conversation. “You’re the only First Class SOLDIER left, so that’s probably their reasoning. They’re not stupid. They wouldn’t want to pit childhood friends against each other.” Sephiroth is in the middle of rooting around the drawer for underwear and laughs bitterly at “childhood friends”.

“You really think that?”

“The director wouldn’t do that on purpose.”

“No, the childhood friends thing.” Tseng is in the middle of trying to fold the towel that Sephiroth forgot about, just to help, and pauses.

“Aren’t you?” Sephiroth can only scoff at the question while putting on a clean pair of briefs.

“No, _they’re_ childhood friends. _They_ grew up in Banora. _Their_ parents were friends. _They_ already knew each other when they joined. Genesis left and Angeal fucked off to join him.” Tseng clicks his tongue and it’s hard to tell if he’s annoyed because they’ve definitely had several conversations from this same genre of topics. Or at least the root cause of them.

“…So it’s still personal, then.”

Sephiroth can’t even answer that. Tseng stands up, folded towel in his hands, walks across the room, and hands it over. Sephiroth takes it in silence.

“We don’t even know why Angeal left. Part of this mission is for reconnaissance, remember.”

“…You’re going as well?”

“Yeah.” That’s…good. Tseng would probably want to resolve things peacefully, although Sephiroth doubts he’d have a problem sniping people from a rooftop if needed. For all his earnestness, Tseng can be weirdly cold. But he doesn’t want to jump to conclusions. Neither did Angeal’s little protégé, but he’s probably biased in the other direction. He can’t remember the last time he’s been yelled at like that before, and from a Second Class?

Wait. That can’t be right. Can it?

_Zack’s here. He’s holding Angeal’s sword, the Buster Sword, and he’s screaming at you. The Mako smell in here is terrible, but you’re so used to it now that it barely registers. You can’t understand what Zack is going on about either. Something something other people’s sadness. He’s crying. He thinks that you’re sad too and tries to understand, which is impossible because you aren’t sad. Why would you be? You found your Mother. You’ve never felt such happiness in your whole life. Zack should feel happy for you, too._

_So, why isn’t he? Why is he crying? Why?_

“Sephiroth?”

“Hah?” What…what were they talking about again? He looks down and sees that he dropped his towel again, ruining Tseng’s hard work. Sephiroth bends over and picks it up while Tseng’s brow furrows in worry.

“I guess it’s late. You’re probably tired, right?”

“No, I…” Sephiroth wrings the towel in his hands, thinking. “No, I was going to say something, but I must have forgotten.” Let’s see, Genesis, Angeal, Tseng probably wants them back alive…Zack.

Zack?

Right, of course! He’s so _stupid_! Tseng must have read his expression because he lets out a “huh?” as soon as the idea comes to him.

“Why not send Zack?”

“…Zack _Fair_?”

“Yes. Why not? He’s been trying to get into First Class for awhile, hasn’t he?”

Tseng doesn’t have a very productive comeback for this, just a non-committal, “I…guess so.” Sephiroth’s mood lightens up so much that Tseng probably can’t argue with it much. “You’re sure?” His hesitation is understandable. They both know what Zack’s like, even if Sephiroth has only heard about it. Zack the Puppy. He may as well be the human incarnation of Stamp.

Still, Zack inherently, almost instinctively, defaults to non-violence. He has good instincts. He can “read a room”. This mission wouldn’t be as likely to blow up in his face.

“Of course. It’s a good way to get more experience under his belt. And you’ll be there to keep an eye on him.” He pats Tseng’s shoulder, implying that this is an order and not a suggestion, and the other man sighs in defeat.

“If you say so. If this turns into babysitting duty, you really owe me.”

“He’ll do great.”

“Sure.” Tseng walks out from under Sephiroth’s hand in one smooth motion and gives a small wave goodbye. “Goodnight. Sorry again. …Take it easy for now, okay?”

“You first.”

“Sadly, that isn’t in my skillset. Later.” With that, Tseng saunters out and, while Sephiroth had been meaning to ask how he even got into his room in the first place, by the time he’s ready for bed, he’s already forgotten about it.

Tseng forgot to take his coffee milk with him, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sephiroth and...Tseng? It's more likely than you think. This isn't really about shipping the two of them, or even shipping-focused. It's more of a character study. More to come.


	2. Digital Spring Cleaning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time to go through the trials of cleaning our inbox.

Access e-mail account?

>Yes

No

Now accessing [s542891-334@SOLDIER.net’s](mailto:s542891-334@SOLDIER.net%E2%80%99s) e-mail account.

From: [address not on file]

Subject: I saw you!!

Message: Hiiii! Don’t mind me, just a diligent citizen of Midgar who managed to spot The Great Sephiroth slumming it up. Is this you?

[image broken]

[alt text: Looks like someone was at the Honeybee Inn for the hunks. :-)]

Not a lot of people look like you! You really stick out, you know? This isn’t blackmail or anything, love is love, you feel me? But hey, I wonder what your fanclub would say about this? Fans can get really weird and entitled about this kind of stuff. If you need a dedicated PR guy or just someone to talk to, hit me up! I could get you a side job as a model, even! You’d really kill it! I’m in Sector 7, right across from the 7th Heaven. Call me!

-A Mysterious Benefactor :-)

Delete this message forever?

>Yes

No

Are you sure?

**> Yes**

No

_I never could figure out how these people managed to find my employee badge number. Talk about entitled._

From: [hojo@srd.shinra](mailto:hojo@srd.shinra)

Subject: Exam

Message: Reminder that you have a medical examination this Friday. We need to get a reading on your magic output as well, so bring appropriate Materia. Don’t be late again.

_I should have known. Perhaps I already knew beforehand but it’s so obvious now. Looking back on events like this instead of through something like memories is like reading through a novel. You can see all the little tells; the moments of almost jealous possession, every time he’d glare at Professor Gast, or blow up at me for saying something that the Professor would say. How he’d spit and fume in a jealous rage in private, or become very invested in how I did in my schooling, or magic. My abilities. Physical evidence that his accomplishments meant something, that they held value._

_Can you believe he tried to replace me with a robot? What a sad joke._

From: [ahewley@SOLDIER.net](mailto:ahewley@SOLDIER.net)

Subject: Something’s wrong

Message: I’m going to look further into Genesis’ disappearance. I know you don’t check these, but I can’t exactly call you right now. I can’t say anymore about this without being in person. R&D data has also been compromised, apparently.

If something happens, take care of Zack for me, would you? Don’t worry, I’ll try to come back alive. Make sure someone waters my plants too, all right?

Thank you.

-Angeal Hewley

_…Well. I took care of the plants as long as I could. It’s much harder to do than you would think, especially in Midgar. Plants can “talk”, in a sense, and tell you exactly what they need, but I’ve never heard them._

_Shame about Zack, though. Perhaps this time around will be different._

From: [grhapsodos@SOLDIER.net](mailto:grhapsodos@SOLDIER.net)

Subject: Revelations

Message: To my Greatest Rival, my Moon and Stars,

How have you been? I trust you are doing well? I pray that you actually read this instead of remaining forever obstinate. There is so much I wish to tell you, but I cannot do it here. We are always being monitored by the oppressive watch of Shinra.

Know this:

“There is no hate, only joy  
For you are beloved by the Goddess”

The Director is right about those “distortions”. The world is being twisted and warped into oblivion. Will you join us, or will you continue to be Shinra’s lapdog?

I await your answer, my friend.

_I would have given you my title, but it wasn’t mine to give. The thing to understand about heroism is that it has to be earned. You could argue that Angeal and Genesis, and even Zack have earned it. But have I? It never felt like it. There is a world of difference between soldiers fighting with honor and pride and a Mako canon firing at a swarm of insects._

_None of the serious fights I’ve ever been in felt earned or fair…except for one._

_He is the only one who can claim the title of “Hero”, to me. Only he is worthy of it. Little wonder the Planet chose him._

From: [zfair@SOLDIER.net](mailto:zfair@SOLDIER.net)

Subject: Hey!

Message: Hello, sir! Looks like we’ll be working together for awhile. It’s so cool to finally meet you! I’ll bet you get messages like this all the time, huh? Well, you can count on me to back you up at any time!

Don’t tell him I said this, but Tseng mentioned why you chose me for the mission. That really means a lot, coming from you, you know? I don’t want things to get weird or anything, but I won’t let you down. We’ll all come out of this alive, okay?

-Zack

_People like this are better off doing literally anything else. This is not an insult. Zack was wasted on SOLDIER. I’m allowed to say that, aren’t I? Am I wrong? Being a mercenary was the right idea. Maybe I could have done that too._

_Either way, it doesn’t matter anymore._

From: [cstrife@psd.shinra](mailto:cstrife@psd.shinra)

Subject: (none)

Message: Hello, sir.

This is embarrassing, but I wrote a letter to you a couple years ago. I don’t know if you read it. You probably get a lot of mail, don’t you? They probably say a lot of the same stuff too.

Anyway, I’ve always wanted to join SOLDIER because of you. I went through this phase for awhile where I’d listen to the news about you all the time, what you did in Wutai. I did that one promotion where you had to collect a lot of Stamp labels and turn them in to get that figure of you, but it was a blind box and I never managed to get it. God, that must be weird, now that I’m thinking about it. Imagine having figures of you? I wonder how true to life that figure is?

It got really out of hand. My mom was getting worried about me, I think that’s why she started bringing up getting a girlfriend. Not that it’s like that, or anything! I just really like you, but I don’t want to be weird about it, so if I’m quiet around you, that’s why. I’ll start going on and on and on otherwise.

I sound really creepy right now, don’t I? I should probably delete this, but maybe I’ll just send it. Maybe it’ll get sent to your spam folder. Maybe don’t read this.

Anyway, getting to work with you is such a dream come true. Zack has been helping me with SOLDIER training, so I hope I get into the program soon!

-Your new colleague, Cloud Strife

_…_

Save this message?

>Yes

No

_…Cloud_

_“I’ll come back to you. Even if you don’t promise to wait. I’ll return knowing you’ll be there.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is Friday my dudes.
> 
> Not a real meat and bones chapter and I changed perspective, but you cannot stop me. I thought it would be fun to go through actual emails instead of implying their existence in the first chapter. Enjoy. Or don't!


	3. Kissing, Holding Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can't have shit in Midgar

There was a period of roughly a year-maybe two years?- where Sephiroth could not stop going to the Honeybee Inn.

Don’t get the wrong idea. Nothing weird happened, although one’s definition of “weird” would probably depend on what to expect when going to a place like that. If people knew what Sephiroth actually did with people there, maybe it _would_ be labeled as “weird”. Couldn’t be any weirder than what President Shinra was doing there, though. He only saw him there once, but it was such a close call he stopped going for a full month. He’d never hear the end of it if anyone other than Tseng caught him. Imagine Angeal figuring it out and acting like a disappointed father when they’re the same age. Genesis? Genesis would lose his _mind_. Everyone working at the company would know. Scandal on top of scandal.

Sephiroth couldn’t even remember how it started. Some argument or other that he’d completely forgotten about by that point.

_Hojo got on your case, again, about being late. Making sure to actually check your messages next time or something. You dropped your phone on “accident” to break it, and that turned everything into a screaming match. You were sent a new phone the next day._

Maybe it wasn’t even one thing but a culmination of everything else. Normally, if he was having a bad day and had nothing else to do, he’d mess around in the VR room. If he wanted to actually go outside, though, he would sneak out in casual clothes and buy something from a convenience store. It didn’t matter what because buying something wasn’t the point. The point was interacting with the clerks.

He took a lot of precautions too. He’d wear a hoodie with his hair tied back even if it was boiling hot out, sunglasses, a face mask. Bandannas make people stand out more but face masks just make you look like you have a cold. It was a great way to make sure people didn’t come too close.

Not that the store clerks didn’t know who he was. It wasn’t like it was hard to tell; Sephiroth was very aware of what he looked like. If they did know, they never brought it up, though. That was kind of them. Or maybe they thought no one would believe them. “Hey, did you hear? I saw _Sephiroth buying chips._ ” “Whaaaat? You’re kidding!” At least they let him shop in peace.

Normally, he’d buy something and the clerk would make small talk about the weather or the news. And he’d stand there and nod or give one word answers, and he’d pay for his snack or drink or accessory or whatever and leave. Some stores even had greeters to attract more customers but he could never stay in those for too long. Those kinds of places always had women greeters and they always smiled at him too much, or greeted him in too high of a register, or pawed at or touched him in what anyone else would consider perfectly neutral ways. It edged a little too hard into “Too Much Attention” territory for his tastes.

One time, word got around that some office worker’s friend’s husband was caught at the Honeybee Inn. Back then, the train went from plate side to underneath pretty easily, so Shinra employees going under the plate to take advantage of “looser” rules or people willing to do anything for money was extremely common, at least according to Lazard.

The thing that caught Sephiroth’s attention about it, though, was that the husband was caught with another man. Several men, actually. The wife was apparently inconsolable about it.

Imagine that. Men…kissing men? Holding hands. Having…sex.

He didn’t know you could _do_ that. Some days, it felt like he didn’t know about a lot of things but people just expected him to know regardless.

_Not their fault. How would you even explain that? “Yes, hello. I am a mistake of nature and was raised in a laboratory. Please teach me the intricacies of human mating.”_

He didn’t want to test this theory because he felt bad about giving people money for something so, uh, intimate. But he did start thinking about what would happen if those store greeters were men instead of women. If one of them would call him handsome and dote on him while he was there. Looking up at him and touching his chest. H-holding his…hand. Ahh.

No one would ever know of this. Not even Angeal or Genesis. Especially not Genesis, God, he couldn’t even imagine.

He managed to hold out for awhile, but there was just something about that particular day that made him have enough. There was just something about being around nothing but coworkers all day that made him tired of everything. The constant wall, the way everyone always seemed to walk on eggshells around him, even Hojo. Hojo! Why? What was the point of it all? At least if he did get caught in a love hotel, there’d be consequences. Wouldn’t there?

So he decided to go. Even if what he usually wore for outings would scream “Suspicious” in a place like that, he would rather throw caution to the wind than never know. Wouldn’t anyone?

It turned out that this was going to be a lot more complicated than he figured.

Did you know that the usual protocol for going to a “Love Hotel” is that you’re supposed to go with someone else? Not to worry, though. If you’re alone and ask for…services from men then you, yes you, can be given what amounts to a take out menu filled with nonsense words and no pictures.

The worst thing about that...menu? was that some words were real but became meaningless in context. What did “daddy dom” mean? “Bear”? Surely….surely they didn’t mean real bears, right? That couldn’t possibly be what that meant. The more words Sephiroth read, the more he thought he was having a stroke. And the place itself was so gaudy and embarrassing. Did they have to make such a fucking spectacle of the whole thing? Why couldn’t he go somewhere discrete, hand a wad of bills to someone and say “Men, please” and have everything be sorted out? Why? Why? His head swam. It felt like it was going to tip over and spill at any second. His chest _hurt._ He, he-

-he woke up to a Bee Girl standing over him.

“Oh!” Her shock made that come out a little too loudly, but the tension in her body left immediately. “Oh, thank God! Are you okay?” Sephiroth slowly sat up on the bed, but he couldn’t even look around the room or at her; he just stared at a wall for what seemed like hours. The Bee Girl had to step in front of him again to get his attention.

“S-Sir? D….Do you need to call someone?” Sir? Weird, why was she…why did his face feel naked? Only after touching his face did he realize that his mask was gone. His sunglasses were gone. Shit. _Shit._

“Ah! Um…” He must have given her a terrible look because she jumped backwards and started rambling. “I didn’t…I thought that you weren’t getting enough air so I-“ her hands flew all over the place trying to explain things when words failed. “I, um…I…” God, not this again. Every time. As soon as he looked even mildly inconvenienced, someone would fall all over themselves to shoosh him like he were a frightened dog. It was hard to tell if she were actually concerned or if Shinra’s biggest asset up and dying in the Honeybee Inn would Look Bad.

God, okay. Fine. Whatever. Enough.

“It’s fine.” In fairness, it wasn’t really her fault for trying to help him after he fainted from something so stupid.

“A-are you, um-“

“Shut up.” She did, indeed, shut up, and as Sephiroth picked up the “menu” and got up, she stood stock still, eyes glued to him. She didn’t move as he walked towards her, and her eyes widened the closer he got. Not out of fear, though? Hard to tell at first, but by the time he reached her, she was practically vibrating with anticipation until he held the menu in front of her face.

“Tell me what these mean.”

“…Hah?”

“I don’t know what any of this is.”

Bee Girl sighed and immediately deflated. It felt like her soul left her body right then, but she was nice enough to take the menu and indulge him.

Regardless of her disappointment, Bee Girl turned out to be a seasoned professional at this. Apparently “gay subculture” was incredibly image-conscious and all the different terms were for appearances and what the other party was into. Like a secret code! Fascinating stuff.

It was still difficult to make a decision, though. So many options! And he didn’t even know what he was into. Younger or older? Short or tall? Muscles? Toned or not? The more Sephiroth thought about it, the more paralyzed by indecision he felt.

“Well..just think about something ideal! Like, the perfect date or something. Who would you want to spend it with?” Oh. That was a good place to start. Yes. Who to spend it with?

Someone who..not necessarily younger, but maybe someone who looked up to him. Not a fan, but maybe someone with genuine admiration. No pretentions whatsoever.

_Someone who can stand up to you._

The more he thought about it, the more shocked he was at just how low of a bar he set. He could only come up with vague scenarios, like living outside of Midgar, maybe in the mountains. He’d finally get a handle on cooking and they could have real food together. Just living away from civilization and herding goats or something. Him, and…hmm. Every time he tried to picture another man, he was smaller (not hard to be, compared to Sephiroth) and fun to dote on. Cute expressions. Fun to tease. Not in a mean way, just mild bothering that people familiar with each other would do.

How strange. Did he want a lover or a pet? Perhaps he should have gotten a dog instead. Probably too late to back out at this point. Someone smaller and cute was a good enough place to start.

“Cool! Uh, you’re sure you’re feeling up to it?” That was kind of Bee Girl to ask, even if she were just making sure the Shinra company wouldn’t ruin her life if something did go horribly wrong. But yes, he was, or he at least wanted to get this over with after coming here. Relieved that he was all right (or relieved at being able to leave), Bee Girl flitted away to fetch an unsuspecting..twink? Twunk? One of those words.

The poor guy, though. Bee Girl must not have told him who was in here because he took one look at Sephiroth and almost had a heart attack. It was strange. He was clearly a “fan”, but instead of it being a turn-off, the nervousness and awkward rambling was adorable. It gave the worker a strange vulnerability and reminded Sephiroth of a small, nervous bird. How cute.

Sephiroth took off his hoodie and the small, nervous bird got quiet for a second before reverently whispering, “Holy shit.” Indeed! He was already getting chills and they weren’t even touching each other yet. As soon as he took out his money clip, the nervous bird was immediately by his side, sitting on the bed.

“So! Y’like guys? That’s…really cool of you!”

“Shh.” Sephiroth took his hand and grabbed the man’s chin so he could get a good look at him. His eyes were warm and shone very brightly. His hair looked soft and smelled like raspberries. Good muscle tone, although Sephiroth was always hyper-aware of how easily he could damage the average person. One twist of his hand, and…

“Name?”

“Ah…Jerard.”

Sephiroth took out a large bill and placed it in the man’s hand.

“My name isn’t Sephiroth. Do you understand? He was never here. I’m…John.” Very generic of him, but it would have to do. Jerard nodded and pocketed the money. He could feel his little bird’s pulse quicken under his fingers.

“Yeah. Happens all the time, John.” He winked. Sephiroth chuckled and winked back. Good! He gave his little bird a kiss for being so understanding.

Again, nothing “weird” happened, depending on one’s definition of “weird”. Hard to explain, maybe. Actual sex? …Not so much.

It varied, but every time Sephiroth felt something, uh, awaken within him, he’d pull back, or removed the other person’s hand going down his pants, or stopped whoever it was (usually Jerard but not always) kissing him from going too south of the border. Everything always skewed toward tame but still… _intimate._ If he had to compare, the closest thing to it would be how honeymoons were shown in movies and television shows. Making out and heavy petting in bed. Whoever was with him almost always wanted to play with or style his hair, which was shockingly fun. They’d take baths together. There was cuddling, a … _lot_ of cuddling, come to think of it. Sometimes they’d watch a movie but most of the time he would order room service and listen to whoever was with him talk. Their eyes would practically pop out of their heads if he ordered something expensive and shared it, and it always made him smile. He had them talk about their day and called them pet names, like “honey” or “darling”, like in the movies. More than one person has called him “Daddy”, which was apparently another less common pet name and not what he initially thought it was. And whenever the time would be close to being up, he would hand them another large bill and keep doing so until he was there for a few hours. He tipped very generously.

It was like a dreamworld. Even though he never went too far with anyone

_You’re waiting for him. You’re starting to get impatient_

it was still nice to stop by whenever he had free time. Sephiroth had more of it than most people knew. It wasn’t like they needed him for every single mission to Wutai (even if they didn’t say that to the public). Honestly, he would rather take every mission than steal people’s thunder. Genesis was always especially snide to him when that happened. It wasn’t as if he could do much about it.

At least doing this got him friends outside of work, even if it were purely transactional. It was something.

It did continue longer than he should have let it, though. It also cost a lot more over time than he would normally be willing to spend, although he did have it better than most everyone in SOLDIER. The Turks might have had higher pay grades but him, Angeal, and Genesis received additional funding ( _allowances_ ), which never made that much sense. Angeal’s family wasn’t rich and Sephiroth didn’t. Um. Have a family, so that could have been seen as a scholarship, but wasn’t Genesis’ family supposed to be rich?

He had more money than the average man in his early 20’s should rightfully have, is the point here.

After Sephiroth had gotten over his almost-run-in with the President, which was more bizarre than that one guy acting like a dog and doing tricks for extra money, he went back for the last time. It was Jerard’s turn, and they were well into their usual antics when he suddenly said, “Hey! Wanna get some drinks?” He didn’t really drink. He wasn’t allowed to for obvious reasons, but at that point he was more willing to throw caution to the wind and try some. Wasn’t he The Great Sephiroth? The Silver General? Surely he could at least try it.

Jerard ordered the mixed kind, the kind that had a bunch of different flavors and didn’t have that strong of an alcohol taste. The melon-flavored ones were Sephiroth's favorite, but nothing much happened after one. Or two. Or five. Now that was interesting! He felt a little lighter but not much else, so maybe one of his many talents included alcohol immunity. He wondered if Hojo had a greater chance of appreciating the new data or would just yell at him for drinking so much. On the other hand, he was starting to get sick and tired of trying to anticipate what Hojo would say about anything.

Jerard, meanwhile, was plastered. Seeing him roll around on the bed and giggling like that suddenly made it occur to Sephiroth that he probably shouldn’t be drinking that much on the job, but he had tried to keep up and failed and was now busying himself by kicking his feet into Sephiroth’s back which, of course, did nothing.

He reached around and grabbed the smaller man’s foot, pulling him towards the edge of the bed with ease.

“You still good?”

“Of course.” If anything, Sephiroth was in a better mood than normal. Jerard just laughed, fell off the bed, and crawled over to the drink cart to get the last big bottle of flavored vodka.

“Think y’can finish this? I’m tapped out….” Sure, he could finish it! He didn’t need to be asked twice. Maybe he could even test what his alcohol limit was. For..science.

His memories became a bit more spotty after that. He knew he finished that whole bottle. He remembered trying to get up and failing, falling back onto the bed and giggling like a child. Being well and truly drunk hit him fast, and what he remembered most about the feeling was the sudden awareness of how large and ungainly he was. He was always semi-aware of it, but being drunk made his limbs heavy, and he felt like he took up so much more space than others.

Jerard had pinned him down, which they both thought was the height of comedy, considering. They were both overheated and naked and kissing each other. Jerard straddled him and laid across his chest, kissing his neck, his forehead, his chest. He could feel himself getting hard and he was letting it happen. He wanted to keep going. He wanted Jerard’s cock in his mouth so bad but he wanted to just lay there even more, letting himself be well and truly useless. He wanted so much.

His little bird leaned forward and stared at him, smiling. Sephiroth smiled back and lifted his arms, grabbing the man’s ass and squeezing it, pushing his pelvis down. He could feel Jerard getting hard too. They really were going to cross that threshold, weren’t they?

Then, out of nowhere, Jerard asked, “Do you wear contacts?” Huh?

…What?

“…Haha, noooo? My vision’s fine?” What did that mean? Contacts…

“No, like…like for costumes. Make your eyes look different?” Sephiroth shook his head, but even that made the world tilt a little too much, so he just let his head drop and closed his eyes. Jerard laughed, but he couldn’t tell if he was impressed or if it was from nervousness.

“So they’re real?” Sephiroth said something that sounded like, “ayuh” because nodding would have been too much effort. Jerard was doing…something. Kissing him all the way down his stomach. Grabbing the base of his cock. Squeezing. Jerard was probably nervous because he wouldn’t stop talking.

“That’s so sick. They’re really pretty.” He wanted to say “thank you” but his lover kept stroking him and flooding him with…how to describe it? Like a very low level electric current that felt insanely good. Every time he tried to open his mouth, random noises would come out, like ghosts trying to escape.

“The inhuman look is so you. It’s _sooo_ hot.” Uh-huh, if he said so. Inhuman look.

In…human? Look?

_You are beyond stupid. Did you know that?_

His head hurt. His stomach started to churn from all the alcohol and he tasted bile. A dull ache throbbed behind his right eye while his foreskin was pulled back.

_How did it take you so long to figure it out? Why weren’t you allowed to ask about Mother? How many humans do you think that happens to? Keeping secrets about their parents._

Someone’s tongue licked his tip. Someone was making his body vibrate and his skin prickle. Someone’s warm, wet mouth enveloped him. He was unfolding. He felt like a wild animal. Someone loved him so, so, so much and it wasn’t real. Nothing could ever be real, for him.

He shuddered, back arching, his legs tensing so much that his knees went to his chest.

There was a loud, crashing noise, like shattering glass, a loud thud, and then silence.

It was dark and quiet. Sephiroth woke up because the door was kicked open and the slam against the wall was super loud. Someone was talking but the voice was low and quiet and he was still drunk, it felt like. His clothes were thrown at him. Time to go. It was time to go. Okay. He barely managed to put on his civilian clothes before being hoisted up and led out the room. Everyone was gone. He couldn’t remember if the Honeybee Inn ever actually closed.

Looked like the mirror and the wall behind it was damaged but at least the glass was cleaned up. They should get that fixed.

They were driving. Well, _obviously_ he wasn’t, but it was nice to stare out the car window and look at the city lights. The Mako reactors always looked so beautiful this time of night, or at least the Mako itself did. It was better than taking the train. He could press his forehead against the cool window and stay like that, and no one would care.

The driver occasionally talked to him, mostly to ask a couple of questions, but most of the time he let them sit in silence, and that was fine too. Eventually, Sephiroth dozed off.

He woke up to the smell of cigarette smoke and a cool, morning breeze.

They were parked on top of one of the plates and listening to the ambient construction noises because Midgar was constantly under construction. It was pre-dawn, but you could never see the stars out here, even in the dead of night. Whoever it was who came to pick him up handed him a bottle of water.

It was Tseng.

Shit.

“Hey. Drink up.” Sephiroth suddenly felt very small and stupid as he took the water and felt every part of his body creak and groan at once. His mind might as well have been an ooze, it took him so long to say anything.

“…You smoke?” Tseng didn’t answer, he just pointed to the water, then the coffee in the cupholder and a brown paper bag.

“Water first, then breakfast.” Fine. He started drinking and as soon as the water hit his mouth, he chugged it in less than a minute. He went for the paper bag and opened it to find donuts. Good God, Tseng was being weirdly generous. Either that or Sephiroth must have asked for them but his stomach suddenly made a loud growling noise, so that didn’t matter much, did it? He stuffed a kruller into his mouth and it was gone in two seconds. Tseng was silent the whole time, although he did turn in his car seat so he was facing Sephiroth, still trying to dangle his cigarette out the window, out of politeness. Staring at him. It was hard to tell if Tseng was judging you or if he was just staring off into space.

“How are you feeling?” Tseng asked after the fourth donut (a bearclaw).

“…Bad.”

“Yeah?” The tone made it seem like that was supposed to lead into some kind of lecture about how he shouldn’t accumulate a “bad company image”, or something that had made-up words that office managers loved to use, like “synergy”, but it stopped there. Thank God. He drunk his now lukewarm coffee and felt a little alive again. Tseng put out his cigarette in the ashtray.

“Physically or emotionally?” He stared at his coffee for a few seconds, thinking.

“…Yes.” Tseng tsk-ed at him and reached into the bag for another donut.

Honestly? How was he supposed to answer that? The whole point of this was doing something outside of “work”. What was going to happen if he went back to the company and said, “Help, I’m gay and working here is driving me crazy!” Lazard was always serious about being willing to listen, but what would happen? He’d be taken to a therapist. He’d have to talk about his feelings. They’d shoosh and coddle and tell him those feelings were valid so he would shut up and go back to work again. He’d rather bury the Masamune hilt first and then fling himself on top of the blade.

Tseng’s phone beeped with a new message so he was checking it, reading whatever it was while Sephiroth stared out the window at nothing in particular, still not answering the question properly.

“Ah, good news.” Tseng pat his knee and was almost close to smiling, for him. “Your friend is okay. A broken collar bone and cracked ribs but he’ll be fine.”

“…What?”

“You know, your, uh…” Even Tseng was too embarrassed to actually come out and call him a lover

“No, I know, what do you mean he’s ‘fine’?” Tseng’s eyes widened a little and he leaned closer. He smelled like tobacco and old leather armchairs.

“Did you black out?” Sephiroth gave him a blank stare so Tseng continued. “You kicked him into the wall. Allegedly. He had to have flown at least a couple of meters.” He lit another cigarette while Sephiroth had to sit there and stew in the implications. “The person who found you said you were unresponsive and that’s why I came. You know, you’re really lucky. All that alcohol softened that kick, I’m guessing.” Right. Jerard was the one who got bodied into a wall, but Sephiroth was the lucky one. Okay. Sure. Great! Tseng took another drag from his cigarette and leaned away, blowing the smoke out the window before leaning forward again.

“So, when I ask if you’re okay, I am under the assumption that you might have had some kind of seizure. This is serious, okay?” The sun was finally starting to rise and he could start the see the dark circles under Tseng’s eyes and how pale he looked. Did Tseng ever sleep? It never felt that way, but he looked ragged right then, with dawn approaching. Sephiroth couldn’t look at him for every long.

“Do you need a check-up?”

“No.” God no, that was the last thing he needed.

“You’re sure? We don’t know what alcohol does to you-“

“Why?” Tseng blinked in surprise and just sat there while Sephiroth stared at him. His cigarette was slowly burning to ash without him touching it. He shrugged.

“You could be allergic to it. Some people have really bad reactions to-“

“No.” That wasn’t what he meant and Tseng _knew_ that. Different flavors of this conversation have always come up before. Why wasn’t he a “viable donor” for Genesis? Why were his eyes like that? Why did they have to make sure it was possible for him to do normal, human things? Every time he would ask that and every time, Tseng would say-

“I don’t know.” Of course he didn’t. Why did Sephiroth think there would be a different answer? Every single time. It took months of pestering to pry his mother’s name from Professor Gast’s mouth, and he was expecting one of the Turks to just tell him confidential information? Like they were friends? Come on. Tseng took another drag and started to face forward, like he was about to start the car.

“So, you’re feeling better?”

Sephiroth finished his coffee and sighed. “Sure, Dad.”

“Don’t call me that. I’m not your dad.”

“Okay, Grandpa.”

“I’m three years older than you.” It _never_ felt like that. Before Shinra hired him, Tseng’s family owned a temple. He was supposed to take over as the head monk, but so many people stopped going that they had to close. …Or so he said. He only told him because Sephiroth had asked about the dot on his head and he had to explain how it was a burn mark from incense, a right of passage. Or he could have made the whole thing up. He could have said that he was one hundred years old and Sephiroth would have believed him.

“Sure, Tseng. If that _is_ your real name.”

“Fantastic. Buckle up.” Tseng started the car. He never asked about why Sephiroth was going out so much, or pried about what he did, or tell him to stop. He just came in and cleaned up after him because that was what the Turks did. While Tseng was driving, Sephiroth reclined the seat and dozed again, leaving the window open and letting the wind blow over his face.

He never went back again after that. He wasn’t even sure how he could show his face. No matter what he did, Sephiroth only seemed fit for the company, born for it and nowhere else.

Thinking about that gave him a strange, hollow feeling, so over the years, he stopped doing that. What was the point of trying to get off a train that would never reach the station?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Hi. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> I probably need to bump up the rating now. I feel like I might get crucified for putting Sephiroth with a random guy, but there IS implied sefikura...kind of? I hope I made what was happening obvious enough. Thanks for reading!


	4. The Will of the Planet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts at 3 AM in the Time Void.

The Planet is alive.

Perhaps it isn’t in the traditional biological sense but then, with something so massive, who can say? Would life forms on the Planet be considered specialized cells in comparison? Planets are born in stardust, and they grow and change. The Planet reacts to external stimuli and can heal itself. It even has what could be considered an immune system. Perhaps those living on the Planet are simply too small to comprehend the full extent of it, although there are branches of science dedicated to studying it. It even had caretakers in the Ancients. It is so hard to argue against the Planet being alive that Shinra has to call the Lifestream something else and insists that “mako energy” is infinite, but that isn’t true. The Planet will die, eventually, even if no one uses its energy to power their homes.

However, this begs the question: If the Planet is alive, like you or …well, like you, then where did its Lifestream come from? Where does it return to when the Planet dies? And, perhaps the most important question of all, why does the Lifestream exist?

All great scientists are at least well-versed in philosophy. Gathering data is all well and good, but in order to be of any use or substance, you have to know the right questions to ask. Otherwise, you’re merely looking for ways to be proven right. You need context. When it comes to asking the purpose of the Lifestream, you would have to edge very close to questioning the meaning of life itself, wouldn’t you?

Let us ponder this mystery by exploring what the Lifestream does.

The Lifestream, as we all know, provides spirit energy to living things and takes it away when they die. Very cut and dry so far. However, the Planet also collects one’s experiences and memories at death. This is how Materia works. Condensed, crystalized Lifestream can come back to us and teach us how to summon fire, or powerful martial arts. Knowledge and experiences from the past are collected and can drift back to us at any time, and it can range from what other people have learned to the experiences of the Planet itself. If someone doesn’t have strong will or identity, exposure to large amounts of mako can make the mind collapse.

So, the Planet gives life and collects memories in return. But why? Is that a byproduct of the life cycle or is it the intent? It isn’t limited to individual memories either. Everything that you’ve ever thought of, or seen, or read, is recorded, etched into the Planet. That is how summons are formed, after all; they are born of fairy tales or legends and live on with the Planet.

It’s almost as if the Planet itself is learning, isn’t it? Gaining all of these different experiences and memories and stories and returning some of them to us as Materia, until it’s given back, over and over again.

And then what?

What happens when the Planet finally dies? Where will those precious memories go?

Perhaps there is no purpose to the Planet gaining the experiences of life and then dying. It could all be an unfortunate byproduct of living, the existential curse of conscious thought. Or the Lifestream and everything it carries could travel elsewhere and seed new planets. It could also feed into something much greater than any of us could comprehend.

Assuming that the answer to life is that there is no answer would be boring, so why don’t we look at another possibility? Is the purpose of life, and the Lifestream…to live?

A shockingly simple answer, to be sure, but what do we gain from ignoring simple answers? Living requires one to do that, after all. You interact with other living things and gain knowledge, skills, memories. Scars, pain, trauma. All of it comes from living.

I wonder if the Planet expected other acts of creation as well. That would be such a gamble, wouldn’t it? It could be art, or stories, or mundane creations for living, or even new and inventive ways to suck the Planet’s energy dry.

Most people would probably say that the Planet wouldn’t expect much. It’s still up for debate just how sentient it actually is, although it’s said the Ancients could speak with it. Perhaps it spoke back.

Back to the question: if the Planet is also living, it is also taking in these experiences. The Black Materia is the best example of this. It is a treasure house of knowledge that records when the calamity from the skies came and wounded the planet. Such a traumatic event and its aftermath birthed the most destructive magic ever created. So large and so great that its origins could be carved onto the materia’s walls.

What other events have shaped it? Does it remember and retell all of its stories?

The Planet is alive and it remembers everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not monologuing, it's a tutorial, if you think about it.
> 
> Kind of short this time, but breathers are fine too.
> 
> Maybe they went further into how summons actually work in the compilation/remake and the actual mechanics of the lifestream, but looking at the events timeline and the lore makes my brain tired and I hate it. Please understand.


	5. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How does it feel?  
> It's your first time back to your hometown in a long time, right?  
> So, how does it feel?  
> I wouldn't know because-

One year after the Wutai War started, Angeal and Genesis joined SOLDIER.

There wasn’t really a SOLDIER back then, of course. Shinra had always had its private army, along with its tanks and guns, from long before it switched to being an electric company. Back then “SOLDIER” was just Sephiroth being set free to lay waste to Wutai soldiers. At twelve years old.

That never seemed strange to him until he met other people his age. It might be embarrassing, but Sephiroth assumed that everyone else around him have always had their current job. Not that they were always adults; he knew what babies and children were, he wasn’t that oblivious. Just that, for example, if you were a scientist like Hojo, you were always going to be one. You started your scientist training early and then you just grew into it, that sort of thing. Before that, the only one at the company closest to his age was Tseng and…well. It was Tseng. He just appeared one day in a suit working under Veld, so clearly they must have just found another Turk.

He also knew that the infantry soldiers were older than him, but Sephiroth got ahead of them much earlier. He was faster, stronger, and was better at mastering his materia, so of course he surpassed everyone at so young an age. They even made him a special sword! He was so good at fighting, he didn’t even need guns! How cool was that?

That must seem callous and immature to think when it comes to war, but it was incredibly easy to tell a child that these bad men were trying to kill Shinra employees, all because they didn’t want a Mako reactor. Everyone else in the world had one! Wutai could have stopped this by surrendering at any time. They didn’t have to send their men to die, which they did very easily when fighting Sephiroth. It was little wonder that Wutai had to rely on unconventional fighting methods and support from terrorist cells.

After a year of navigating ambushes and drawn-out stalemates, the company had an idea. However, Sephiroth wouldn’t be aware of this plan, or its implications, until years later. Not until it was too late to do anything about it.

Sephiroth had just come back from training when he first saw the two boys.

They were sitting in the lounge and talking to Hollander. Hollander was another Shinra scientist, but he never managed to run into him that much. He always had his appointments with Hojo, so when Sephiroth saw the other scientist with two teens, he thought some family was touring the building. The two boys turned to look at him as soon as Hollander spotted him. One of them had perfect skin and broke into a wide smile while the other looked more rough around the edges and had a widow’s peak that made him look older. They both eyed him curiously. He stopped dead in his tracks, suddenly nervous.

“Oh, perfect timing.” Hollander stood and it finally clicked that yes, this was Hollander. He looked so out of place, like someone’s uncle randomly put on a lab coat, so that must have been what threw him off. “Here he is, boys! The Demon of Wutai himself.” Hollander walked over and patted his shoulder while gesturing with his other hand in a very “ta-da” fashion. Ah, right. He was used to being show ponied like this in front of various important people, even back then, but this still felt different. The other boys stared at him for what felt like hours. Perfect Skin looked him up and down, like he was sizing him up, while Widow’s Peak knitted his brow, thinking. Sephiroth just wanted a drink from the vending machine and then to go back to his room.

Finally, Widow’s Peak spoke. “He’s the same age as us?” Perfect Skin snickered in amusement. That must have caught Hollander by surprise because he stumbled over his next words.

“Well, uh…sure! Doesn’t it feel cool to know that you all have the same potential?” Perfect Skin started nodding, apparently into the idea, while Widow’s Peak was still thinking.

“What’s going on?” They all stared at him, surprised that he actually spoke instead of just letting them talk around him. Hollander chuckled, although it was strained, like the question caught him by surprise.

“Right, you probably just got back to Midgar, huh? We did some scouting. You can’t be in Wutai all the time, right?” Well no, he couldn’t, but that’s what the peacekeeping forces were for, right? “These two are here to help you out. You’ll be forming a special team.”

Sephiroth stared at the two boys, not able to process what was happening.

“Why?”

Perfect Skin started outright laughing until Widow’s Peak smacked the back of his head. Hollander couldn’t even tell them to settle down; he was too busy trying to think of an answer to such a broad question.

“Well…they’re special. Just like you are, Sephiroth.” Now _that_ was impossible, but he did his best to not interrupt and listen properly. “And it’s better for you to bond with boys your age, right?”

“…It is?” Since when? He barely ever interacted with people his age. Even when President Shinra’s son was around for events, he had to keep his distance. Back then, infantry members tended to skew older too, so he couldn’t understand what Hollander was getting at. The older man didn’t answer him, he just laughed and turned to the others, saying, “This guy!” like he said something funny. Like they were old friends.

Fortunately, Widow’s Peak swooped in and saved him from further embarrassment.

“We were recruited to help with the war effort. My name is Angeal. It’s an honor to meet you, sir.” He did a little bow in greeting and the save made Sephiroth feel a little better. It was the first time anyone had called him “sir” as well. Perfect Skin stepped in next, as if he were waiting to finally say something, and his bow had much more of a dramatic flourish to it.

“Genesis Rhapsodos, at your service, _sir._ ” For years, he was never sure if Genesis was mocking Angeal calling him “sir” or if he was trying to one-up him. It always felt like he was speaking in riddles, even when he wasn’t quoting poetry. “Forgive us. From the way everyone speaks of you, I pictured you as…ah…”

“Older?”

“Hmm, older. More..dashing?” Genesis’ smile was unreadable. Sephiroth stared at his mouth, just to see if he could wrestle any meaning from its shape, then his eyes. He didn’t understand. This would be a common occurrence with Genesis.

“He means heroic,” Angeal translated for him, which would also become extremely common. “Like a knight.” Even then, that explanation barely helped any, but Sephiroth at least tried to nod along and not look like a complete idiot.

“Heroic…” Back then, it was easy to feel heroic when fighting seemed challenging and fun. He actually did enjoy not being fought head-on, the way soldiers in Wutai used ambushes or disguises; it felt more like a solving a puzzle. It was cool to be taken seriously like that. Although, he’d never heard strangers describe him as “heroic” before.

“Right, see?” Hollander tried to bring the conversation back around again and get to the point. “They admire you so much, they jumped at the chance to join up! Cool, right?”

Sephiroth stared at the two boys, unsure of what to do with this information. They…admired him? Like…they thought he was cool? These people he’s never met. Did other people feel this way? He wondered for a bit what the company was saying about him, but he was overcome with the need to bow, either to apologize for not picking up on things sooner or in gratitude.

“Thank you. I hope I’m able to meet your expectations.”

They all laughed about it later. It was hard to believe how sheltered he was until he had friends. They were all friends, weren’t they?

From then on, the boys did almost everything together. They ate together, woke up at the same time, did training together. Genesis was scandalized when he learned that “training” for an advanced super soldier involved things like rhythm games along with more “mature” subjects like magic and strategic warfare, although those were still couched in games. Hit the target for so many points, see how many pawns and officers you can take from each other, how many faceless infantry men can you “kill” in the VR room, that sort of thing

The biggest shock for all of them was their schooling. Not everyone had the luxury of receiving an advanced STEM education from the best scientists that Shinra had to offer, so Sephiroth would have to help the two of them catch up in his spare time. Even with Genesis’ parents being able to afford tutors, it was still a trial and a half to get him to understand the concept of relativity. Angeal, meanwhile, picked up on new concepts relatively fast and was diligent so, ironically, he had a much easier time catching up.

Out of all of them though, Sephiroth learned the most, and they weren’t even trying to teach him much. Whenever they would get together, like for meals or free time, and Angeal and Genesis would go into talking about what their families were doing or any news from Banora, he’d sit there and listen. It never occurred to him that he might be the third wheel in all this until Angeal tried to bring him into the conversation one day.

“Where are you from, Sephiroth? You never told us.”

He had to pat down his synthetic mashed potatoes while he thought about this. “Here, I guess.”

“You _guess?_ ” Genesis scoffed, as usual. “Do you mean Midgar?”

“No, I mean here.” There was a heavy silence while he went on to eat his dinner. Genesis’ eyebrows shot up so high they almost went into space. Angeal had an unreadable expression but he still tried to keep the conversation going.

“You mean the Shinra building?”

“Yes.”

“Ha! Angeal, look, he’s learning to jest. You’re rubbing off on him.”

“Genesis.” Another thing he learned from Angeal is that if you know someone long enough, you can say their name in a very specific tone of voice that can communicate a whole range of emotions, depending on tone. This time, it was a command for Genesis to be quiet, which worked more often than one would think.

“So, you’re saying you were born here?”

“…I don’t know. I just remember this place. Does it really matter?”

It was the Banora Boys’ turn to think about this accidentally thought-provoking question.

“Hmm. That’s intriguing. Is one more defined by birth and station or by the future one creates for themselves? You never cease to amaze with your insights, Sephiroth.”

“I think your birthplace and family has an impact. For example, Genesis is a rich idiot-ow!” That got Angeal a kick under the table, which started a prolonged kicking war that blessedly derailed the conversation for a few minutes before someone yelled at them to settle down already. By the time they stopped horsing around, Sephiroth wasn’t eating. He was staring out the window with his spoon in his mouth, thinking.

“…Sorry. I guess you don’t bring it up for a reason.”

“Mmn.” It was nice of Angeal to apologize, but there wasn’t any reason for it. He just wanted to know more about him. Sephiroth didn’t have very good answers, was all.

“Perhaps he came from the stars? Ohh, what if the Shinra company found him in a crater-grk!?” As soon as Sephiroth got up to leave in a huff, Angeal grabbed his childhood friend’s ear and twisted. He could hear the two of them bicker as he walked off (“Don’t be mean!” “I wasn’t!”, one of the cafeteria workers yelling “Knock it OFF!”) and went to his room. He wasn’t even hungry for breakfast the next day.

_“I’m sorry,” Genesis says as he stands in your doorway. “I just liked the idea, of you coming from the heavens. It’s romantic. I didn’t…” He stops, then leaves. You don’t hear him because you’re asleep. He only ever apologies if he thinks you can’t hear him, out of embarrassment._

One day, when they were back in Midgar during a long ceasefire, Genesis walked in on Sephiroth laying face down on the floor.

After the others joined, they had access to a new, special living quarters, just for them. It was like a dormitory suite, separate rooms and bathrooms connected to one living room. There was a fourth room, in case anyone else made it to First Class, but that wouldn’t happen for years. Separate bedrooms never stopped Genesis from drifting in and out of everyone else’s for his daily dose of attention, so when he walked in unannounced, he almost had a heart attack.

“Sephiroth!?”

“Shhh.” Sephiroth was fine, stifling a giggle while Genesis crept over to see what he was doing on the floor.

“What’s all this?”

“I’m…messing with security.”

Ever since he was introduced to the concept of being in a room with no security cameras, something much more common than he was led to believe, Sephiroth had taken to doing bizarre things on camera for fun. After the third time he pretended to have a seizure and the medical staff came to check on him, Hojo had to lecture him about things like “professionalism” and “wasting his goddamn time”, so he had to tone it down to things that weren’t alarming but still inscrutable. Like laying down on the floor and staying there on his days off, for example.

Even if Genesis didn’t fully get it, he found it funny enough to copy him, jumping onto the bed and laying face down and ramrod straight, his body not even aligned with the bed properly. A couple of minutes of this was all they could handle before they starting giggling, the idea of the people watching them and being very confused being the funniest thing in the world at the moment.

Hojo coming onto the intercom and drawling out, “Don’t encourage him,” made them laugh even harder, so hard that they broke character and dissolved into crying, giggling messes. Genesis was making a weird, cackling noise, like a chocobo, and that made Sephiroth laugh so hard he started coughing. Despite everything, they made their own fun.

“Phew…” Whatever Genesis came in here for, he must have forgotten, because they both lay there for awhile in silence, exhausted from their laughing fit. Minutes passed before he sat up again, sighed, and said, “We really need to redecorate your room.”

Sephiroth rolled over and sat up, looking up at the guy sitting on _his_ bed. “…We do?” And what did he mean “we”? It’s _his_ room.

“Obviously, yes. I mean, look at this.” Genesis gestured broadly and Sephiroth did look at whatever “this” was, or tried to. Everything was in its proper place. The books were all in the bookcase, his desk was clean, the Masamune was in its proper mount. His closet was organized, everything was dusted. Genesis must have been making fun of him because he couldn’t see what “this” was and looked back at the other boy for help.

“Look at what?”

“Do you see anything?”

“…No?”

“Exactly!” Genesis sprung out of bed, getting excited, which usually meant he wouldn’t be shutting up for another couple of hours. “Where are your mementos?” He had no idea what that meant and his expression said so, so Genesis continued. “Posters? Wall art? Souvenirs? Pictures? What do you _like?_ I come in here and I don’t see you at all.”

“…But I’m right here.”

“No, I…I know. I mean, it looks like you haven’t made the space _yours._ It looks like a well-furnished jail cell. Every time I come in here I always get depressed.”

“Then don’t come in here.” He didn’t see why Genesis had to come into his room and start criticizing it. Sephiroth didn’t waltz into his room and start complaining about the framed pages of LOVELESS on his wall or whatever Genesis had in there.

The other boy didn’t have a proper comeback for that, he just sat on the bed and pouted. But he wasn’t leaving either, so Sephiroth had no idea what was going on with him. If it was so bad in here, he could easily go bother someone else. After a few moments of silence, Sephiroth got up to do…something, maybe rearrange his bookshelf, so Genesis would get the hint that he was busy, but he still didn’t leave.

After he was halfway into putting his biology books on the top shelf, Genesis spoke up and asked, “It really doesn’t bother you?”

Sephiroth shrugged. “Why would it bother me?”

“…I just think you deserve something nice to come back to.” That…wasn’t an answer that he was expecting, and he turned to look at Genesis, who was looking away.

“…What?”

“I don’t know. It’s not…fair. You, having to go out there for weeks and come back to this. Like you’re…” For once, Genesis thought about what he was going to say next because he didn’t finish his thought.

_“Like you’re an attack dog. Like they’re putting you in your kennel after every mission.” That’s what he wants to say but doesn’t. He’s trying._

“Ah, well, I simply think you deserve something more…homey. Is all.” Genesis still wasn’t looking at him and was nervously tugging at his hair.

“What does ‘homey’ mean?”

“Oh…you know. Having something feel like a home? A warm, comforting feeling.” Genesis finally looked down at Sephiroth, who had a blank expression, so he clarified. “Like when your body feels nice after a long bath, but emotionally.”

“Oh!” Wow, what a feeling that must be. Sephiroth gave another once over of his room and Genesis did have a point. It did look a little bare. He never really came in here to relax that often but then, maybe that was a reason why. It didn’t feel nice, it was just where he slept for the night and did his studying. He gave Genesis another long look, but the other boy was looking away again.

“You’re saying I deserve that?”

“Well! You’re going away again next week.” Was it his imagination, or was Genesis turning about as red as his hair? “And I’d rather visit here than Angeal’s room. His little plants have bugs in them.”

“Uh huh. I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Tch!” At first, it looked like that made Genesis stomp out the door, but less than a minute later, he came stomping right back in, grabbing Sephiroth’s arm and trying to get him to stand up.

“Come on, we’re going.”

“Going?”

“To get you some flair in here.”

“… _Now?_ ” He was already getting ahead of Genesis in height and weight, so the other boy was having a rough time wrangling him. As soon as Sephiroth stood up he was yanked away, dropping a book about black holes in the process.

“Yes, now. We’ll spice up your bookshelf while we’re at it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Genesis is here *throws confetii* I feel like Genesis is kind of a Mean Girl, so I hope that jives with how he is in Crisis Core.
> 
> Here's a behind the scenes look at my writing: "Hey, when do you decide to finish a chapter?" and my answer is. "When I'm sick of writing it," and this one would have gotten longer than Chapter 3 if I kept going, so it's being cut in half. We'll come back here, don't worry. Hope it wasn't too boring. When I say "slow build", I mean it.


	6. Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> or:
> 
> "And they were roommates!"
> 
> "Oh mah gawd, they were roommates."

Someone is knocking on Sephiroth’s door.

He opens his eyes and sits up with the sudden, bracing awareness that he fell asleep on the couch. The common room’s lights are still on. He looks out the window and it’s dark out. He’s holding something.

Whoever’s at the door is still there, and knocks again. Three quick, short knocks. Whoever it is, they’re being awfully polite. There’s no telling how long Sephiroth made them wait while he was sleeping. It could have been five minutes. Or two hours. If it were Tseng, he would have waltzed right inside. He still needs to ask him how he managed to get into their… _his_ dormitory when the door’s always locked.

Knock Knock Knock

“Coming.” Sephiroth looks down at what he’s holding. It’s a framed picture, but he can’t bring himself to take a closer look at it right now. He can’t. He hasn’t even been in his own room in days.

Knock Knock Knock

God, all right already.

“Coming,” Sephiroth says, louder this time. By the time he stands up and is halfway across the room, he realizes he’s shirtless, but it’s too late. Whoever is on the other side of that door is just going to have to deal with it. Maybe this’ll teach people to call ahead before they try to bother him. Not that he’s been answering his phone.

Okay. Sephiroth crouches down to look through the peephole, only to see Zack. Holding a cardboard box with what he assumes are Zack’s things inside. For his room. His room that is next to Sephiroth’s now because someone else _finally_ made it into First Class. Obviously.

Shit. He completely forgot. God dammit.

Now fully awake, Sephiroth looks back into the kitchen area, useless with Angeal gone and littered with takeout boxes and paper cups he forgot to put in the trash. Back out the peephole. Zack’s standing there, holding his box, swaying in place from side to side, staring at the ceiling. He never stops _moving_ , that guy. It’s like a five-year-old was cursed by a witch and transformed into an adult man.

That’s mean. He shouldn’t think that. Zack’s been nothing but helpful this whole time, but he. He can’t let Zack see this. Shameful. Unacceptable.

“Just a second, Zack.” Sephiroth sounds as calm as ever but stares at the kitchen (well, kitchenette) and flounders. Somehow, there is No Time for putting things in a trash bag, so the next best thing he can think of is to take an extra blanket and haphazardly fling it across the counter to cover the garbage and dishes. It’ll work for now. Then he can properly take care of it when Zack’s busy setting up. Good, good.

Sephiroth opens the door and just then remembers that he’s still shirtless. He crosses his arms before Zack turns to look at him, leaning against the doorframe. Everything’s fine. Fine, fine fine.

“Zack.”

Zack blinks in surprise but recovers remarkably well, shifting the box he’s holding to his chest so it’s less awkward to carry. It shouldn’t be that heavy for him, unless there’s nothing but weights in there. Which is a very real possibility, by the way. He’s smiling, or at least he tries to.

“Hey, man. How’ve you been? I didn’t, uh…” He tries to look inside, but Sephiroth moves a bit to block the view. “I didn’t wake you up, did I?”

Yes. Well, maybe. He can’t really remember which came first.

“Don’t worry about it.” He can hear the blanket slowly slide off of the counter behind him, taking the paper boxes and cups and utensils with it. Several forks and spoons clatter to the floor while Sephiroth closes his eyes and takes a very deep breath. Zack, bless him, does his best to keep a straight face.

“…Anyway. Come in, Zack.” Sephiroth steps aside a little stiffly and just prays that Zack doesn’t bring up what just happened, but as Zack steps inside, he seems to be more preoccupied with the space itself than anything else. Before Sephiroth can get a word in, Zack wanders over to the living area to inspect the barely used entertainment center, intermittently ooh-ing and ahh-ing over the set up.

He’s wearing the Buster Sword. Sephiroth takes in a sharp breath and he isn’t even sure why. It’s Angeal’s, but it’s not like he used it all that much.

_Zack’s here. He’s holding the Buster Sword and he’s-_

“Zack.” Sephiroth walks over and pats him on the shoulder, pointing to one of the doors on the left. “Your room is over there.”

“Oh! Right, thanks.” Zack flashes a bright smile while heading for his new room, apparently picking up on what Sephiroth is _really_ getting at, which is, “Please occupy yourself while I clean up.” That’s good. Even if Zack is a little flighty, he knows when to preserve someone’s dignity. He doesn’t even look at the counter as he walks past it. Sephiroth doesn’t even move, he just watches him open the door and go “ _Whoa!!_ ” at how big the room is. They started doing incentives like that when they made the Second and Third Class SOLDIER tiers. Everyone in First Class had the biggest rooms and best amenities while Second Class had smaller rooms, Third Class had two people share a bedroom, and so on. Not that it made very many people get into First Class, aside from Zack. Maybe the three of them being dangled like a carrot in front of everyone else was the whole point. Angeal and Genesis were genetically engineered. It’s not like very many people could beat that. Unless you’re Sephiroth, apparently.

_…I miss Zack._

Yeah. Wait.

How can he miss someone who’s only been gone for a week?

“Dude!” Zack yells about a pitch higher than normal from the back of his room. “This bathroom is _insane!_ ”

“…haha.” Well, okay. Maybe he missed him more than he thought. It was starting to get a little too quiet around here anyway.

Feeling a little more energized, Sephiroth grabs a trash bag and gets to work.

It’s hard to place when they settled on Angeal being the “mentor” for SOLDIER, the one who helped out all the new recruits. He could never remember how they decided on it either, it just sort of happened. Genesis could never pull it off. Way too entitled and focused on knocking Sephiroth off his pedestal. And Sephiroth…this was around the same time he noticed the peacekeeping forces starting to skew younger than he was used to seeing. A lot of teenagers started joining up the deeper they got into the war, and it stayed that way as the years passed, forces ballooning so much that they tried enhancing some of them for Third and Second class.

Not only did many of them know who Sephiroth was, many of them were…a little too friendly? There was always a cluster of them that would gather around their table during meals and try to get his attention. By this point, Genesis and Angeal were pretty famous too, and they _did_ get followings, but the ones who tried to crowd around Sephiroth…knew a little _too_ much.

He’d get gifts, for one. They were all harmless, technically, but they were always his favorite soda, or his favorite snack, or a book he’s been wanting for awhile that someone mysteriously had. They acted like his friends immediately, like they would start conversations that felt like they started in the middle of them instead of the beginning. Very personal things would be sprung on him out of nowhere. It was like suddenly being tossed into the deep end of a pool. Not to say sudden conversations didn’t happen with the others, but “fans” of the other two only got into surface level topics. Genesis’ fans would go over LOVELESS theories with him (honestly, it wasn’t hard to know that Genesis liked LOVELESS; fans seem stricken by a horrible brain disease that make them never shut up about it, ever), while Angeal’s all skewed a little younger and excitable. He just had this calm aura around him that the younger set liked, but they still respected his time and personal space because he just seemed older than he actually was.

Meanwhile, Sephiroth got the weirdos.

It baffled him. He tried as much as could to just deal with it but the more he let it go on, the worse it got. The worst of it was when people started randomly touching his hair. Sephiroth was always proud of it and let it grow out. He figured he had to have gotten it from his mother, with how unique it was, so he always took good care of it. And some of these new recruits would feel compelled to just touch it. Even if they were in the middle of a conversation. Over and over again. Even if it were boys around his age and he was a noted boy-liker, it kept happening, and it was just so _much_ , on top of all the other overly familiar weird shit.

The last straw was when a Third Class boy two years younger than him managed to cut some strands. It didn’t ruin his hair. It was only about an inch, maybe an inch and a half. He could have easily let it go. But that was it. He grabbed the boy by his shirt and tossed him as easily as a child would a rubber ball. The younger SOLDIER hit the wall so hard he even bounced and left a human-shaped dent, but Sephiroth didn’t stick around to see what came next. He ran all the way to their shared living space, went to Angeal’s room, and waited till he came back.

Maybe that was the moment Angeal decided to actually be a buffer. Sephiroth just remembered letting himself be hugged while trying to explain what happened, crying.

“I hate it here,” he whispered so it wouldn’t be picked up by the camera’s audio, suddenly paranoid. They’d kick him out and he’d have nowhere else to go. Maybe they’d do worse than kick him out.

“It’s okay.”

“Please don’t tell them.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

That was when they stopped eating in the cafeteria too, come to think of it. Sephiroth didn’t even suggest it, Angeal and Genesis just started bringing food back to him and sharing it. Sometimes, Angeal would cook something with the camping equipment they were supposed to use on missions, and he must have said something to somebody because one day, Sephiroth came back to kitchenware being installed. More amenities would mean further incentive to get into First Class…or that was the official reason, at least.

He never saw the Third Class boy again and if Angeal did, he never mentioned him. Sephiroth went out a lot less after that, but the only repercussions was a long, serious talk from Lazard, who just started as director at the time. It was about boundaries and non-violent ways to say “No”, so he probably didn’t kill him. …Probably. The closest thing to an emotion that Lazard showed was anger at Sephiroth having to be taught these things at eighteen. Eighteen! He wasn’t angry at _Sephiroth_ , he insisted. But he should know this. Most children learn this much earlier. What happened?

What did they do to you?

He couldn’t answer.

At least Angeal could use his influence for good. People looked up to him. _Sephiroth_ looked up to him; how could he not, after all that? But Angeal could be a teacher and a mentor very easily. Even if people looked up to Sephiroth, it was different. It felt like he wasn’t seen as…real.

But he was real. Wasn’t he?

Sephiroth is watering the plants in Angeal’s room, but they’re dying. To be completely honest, he hasn’t been back in here for the last few days, so that might be why, but he’s trying to be diligent. Perhaps they already know that Angeal is dead. Wonder if plants can get sad and die of heartbreak, too.

_At least Genesis isn’t dead. That asshole._

Two people, just…gone. Their families are gone. Banora’s been wiped off the map. If their belongings are removed, they’ll have nowhere to go. They’ll be thrown into the garbage and burned, like they never existed. The least Sephiroth can do is keep their rooms as-is, so after cleaning, he went to Angeal’s room to check on the plants. Plants are insanely rare in Midgar, so he can’t let them die either. He can’t, he….uh.

Something smells _insanely_ good right now.

For a second, it feels like Angeal had come back and started cooking dinner. Genesis had a point about rooms taking on parts of you, because Angeal’s room still has his presence, in a way. He comes in here and it still smells like tea leaves, and he sits in the bed and it feels like Angeal could be sitting on the other end of it. It’s warm. He’s in the plants, probably literally as well as metaphorically. Maybe the umbrella plant will start talking to him about SOLDIER Honor or something. It’d probably be more likely than him just walking through the door, although that feels like it could happen at any second.

What _is_ that? Garlic and soy sauce, maybe? Sephiroth wanders over to the door and looks out through the crack. There’s Zack, at the stove, cooking…something. Some kind of stir fry, maybe. He must have noticed that he’s being watched because he turns around, notices Sephiroth, and waves. Sephiroth, for reasons he can’t fully explain, waves back, but it’s a slow and stiff wave. He must look absurd, lurking in the shadows of someone else’s room like some kind of ghost, so he slowly steps out into the living room and tries to non-chalantly wander over to the kitchen counter like he isn’t suddenly starving.

“Hey,” Zack smiles and nods at him before bringing his attention back to the stove. “I rescued what I could from the fridge. You hungry?”

“Mmn.” Giving the most non-committal answer he can manage, Sephiroth leans on the counter, waiting.

Zack looks like one of those actors they cast in those TV dramas as a male love interest. They still look masculine, even handsome, but in a softer, non-threatening way. You could take him home to your parents, which is probably what his little girlfriend did. Those flowers on the counter are definitely hers. He wouldn’t be displaying them like that otherwise.

He’s cute. …Good for her. Although, Sephiroth wonders how long they’re going to let him have a girlfriend, considering how image conscious SOLDIER is. Zack does seem like the type to pull that off, though. A SOLDIER like him would fit a Guy Next Door image, so letting him have a girlfriend would make sense. He could be the approachable, humanized one.

God, what a terrible thought. What an awful, brain-poisoned thought. He seriously needs a vacation.

“Okay, order up!” Zack pushes a plate towards him, filled with steaming hot rice and a stir-fried medley of whatever vegetables were salvageable. God. Even that looks almost luxurious, that or he must have been malnourished because he digs into it immediately without even pausing to say thank you. Delicious. A little charred, but that only enhances it, although there’s a flavor in here he doesn’t recognize. While Zack’s eating, Sephiroth asks what all is in here.

“Uh, carrots, broccoli, gysahl greens-“

“He had gyshal greens in there?”

“Sure, people can eat ‘em. People can eat dandelions too, if you harvest fast enough.”

“Really.” You learn something new every day. They’re supposed to be bitter, but cooking them must even it out. As they talk, Sephiroth notices a picture frame on the counter and goes quiet, staring at it.

“Oh, uh, that was on the couch. I didn’t know where to put it.”

“You’re fine.” Sephiroth reaches over to grab it and take a closer look. Oh…right, now he remembers where it’s from. “Ah, our first monster hunting competition.”

“Ohh, was that an official thing or for fun?”

“Both. It was good practice, anyway.” He sets the frame on its stand and leaves it, staring at the three boys from another time. Sephiroth, who always stands there awkwardly for every picture he’s in; Genesis giving a flourish with his sword, trying to hog the frame; Angeal posing with the Buster Sword, smiling serenely. Zack looks at the picture as well, quiet for awhile. Thinking.

“…Man. It’s weird seeing him so young.”

“Who? Angeal?”

“Yeah.” Zack shakes his head, like he’s shaking off the weird feeling, and goes back to eating. “Like, I always felt like he was just an adult all the time? Like a dad from birth.”

“Hah.” Sephiroth covers his mouth in amusement, knowing the feeling. “Like Tseng, right?”

“Dude,” Zack says with the gravitas of someone about the discover the secrets of the cosmos. “You gotta level with me. How old is Tseng?”

“Oh, that’s confidential, Zack.”

“Wh- come on!”

The evening continues like this. Sephiroth waits for the inevitable comment about what he was like back then, or some other prying question, but it never comes. Zack never stays on any one topic for too long, but curiosity gets the better of Sephiroth, eventually. Maybe it’s a test, or maybe he would rather get it out of the way. He isn’t completely sure.

“Are you surprised with me as well?”

“Huh?” Zack looks at him, then the picture again, then back at him. He cocks his head to the side and looks at him wide-eyed. Good lord, no wonder Angeal called him a puppy.

“I mean…I guess it’s one thing to know when the Wutai War started and how old you were and another thing to see it.” He looks closer at the picture again for clarity. “You’re not posing like the others.”

“…What do you mean?” What a strange thing to bring up. He’s right though, Young Sephiroth is just standing there, like he’s caught by surprise.

“Yeah, like you didn’t know what to do for a picture? It’s cute.” Cute? Cute…

“…You’re right. I wasn’t used to posing for pictures at the time. You’re very perceptive, Zack.” Of course, that only includes pictures he knows are being taken. There’s probably hundreds of thousands of pictures taken of him that he’s completely unaware of to this day.

“Oh, well…haha.” Zack scratches the back of his head and turns a bit red, trailing off. Zack, the personification of the phrase “Aw, Shucks.” Sephiroth feels a bit better already.

“Tell me, how do you think I’m doing right now? On a scale from one to ten, one being the worst. In your professional opinion.” Poor Zack, he probably thinks Sephiroth is making fun of him. He gives Sephiroth a deep, long look and makes a thinking noise, like his brain needs time to load.

“Like a three? Pretty bad, but you’re eating now. You look awful, though.”

Sephiroth cackles, covering his mouth out of politeness. Ahh, he feels loads better now.

“Yes! You’re right, Zack. I’m hideous! Thank you!” Zack clearly doesn’t get it, but he doesn’t seem scared either. He just nods and mutters, “uh-huh?” before going back to his dinner, but that’s fine. At the very least, he can count on Zack to be honest with him.

For now, that’s more than enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DID Zack and Sephiroth ever actually get to be roommates? Who knows! But Cloud gets an apartment in Remake, so I'm doing this. Nomura says it's MY turn with canon. 
> 
> There's tense switching going on here (and through the whole thing) because....I'm doing a thing. Enjoy. [Tim Rogers voice] Or don't!


	7. Purpose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What if we were fated rivals who were destined to fight but also gave each other a purpose and a reason to exist? Ha ha, just kidding...
> 
> ...Unless?

He acts so much like Zack, doesn’t he?

In mannerisms, not personality, obviously. The exact same gestures, the way he carries himself, the way he walks and stands, the same habits. The _squatting_ , which still baffles me to this day. The same. Love. Interest.

Personality-wise, he’s nothing like Zack. Personality-wise, there’s nothing _there._ At least, that’s how it looked at first. I am enlightened enough to admit that mistakes were made the first time around, although in my defense, he summoned me like an eldritch god and I had just woken up in Mother’s body, so you can imagine the kind of stress I was under. It’s very disorienting! Copies have a very specific feeling to them as well. They’re like vessels that can be filled any time you like. They need you. They can’t stop calling to you. You give them purpose, like how toys are supposed to be played with. That’s what he felt like, but he didn’t act like it.

There was something about seeing him act like Zack the first time around that annoyed me. I couldn’t even say why, now, but it felt like one thing after another. It was crude aping on his part, the proverbial shadow on the cave wall. He was nowhere close to his personality. Zack was bright and loving, always smiling like the sun. He always said what he meant and never hid his intentions from anyone. I’m not even sure what Cloud is, or was, going for. I genuinely thought some wires crossed at some point.

Watching him act like that gave me the same feeling that cats have when they shove things off of shelves. You know. Wanting to watch something fall down and break. Just shatter him to pieces. It was an overly elaborate way to do it, but it was fun too. Stringing that idiot along across three continents. It’s really too bad I was mistaken, but I was half-right about him lying to himself. He wasn’t First Class, and he _definitely_ wasn’t Zack. You never really see someone recover from mako poisoning to such a degree. Even I, with all the wisdom of the Ancients and more besides, never heard of such a thing.

In fairness, I barely recognized him. He had grown so much, strengthened in body and mind, and he kept getting stronger through all the despair. And he was even stronger our second time, much more firm and decisive. He held “me” in his arms as I died by his hands, again.

It changed me.

I am not ashamed to admit that. My divine grace knows no limits, even for my enemies. There is no shame in learning something new, even for me.

What is our purpose? What is our purpose in doing what we do?

I was asked that once and couldn’t answer. I couldn’t even say she was wrong. We all knew what was happening to the Planet but had our own interests to fight for. I couldn’t answer because the concept of needing a reason to fight never occurred to me. I just fought. Everyone else had their own reasons, even if they were technically on the wrong side of history, but I was never afforded the luxury.

That is why Nibelheim is a special memory. It’s when I became real. It’s when we gave each other a purpose. I had been looking for so long, and he was right there, right under my nose, and I didn’t appreciate it then. I couldn’t savor it. Luxuriate in it. I’ll have to make sure to do that next time around.

What a story for the ages. What a tale for the Planet to tell and retell until the end of days.

I can’t wait for it to be told again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am once again doing one of These Chapters. Sorry, lol
> 
> This may be controversial, but I do like the English VA for Sephiroth in the Remake. My writing voice gets very specific, and Sephiroth sounding like he's on 7 different quaaludes helps me get a better handle for the, uh, the Crazy. Or, I hope that that's conveyed well here. Leave a comment about it, why don't you? Or don't, I'm not your dad.


	8. Recording

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucrecia sees a town in flames.

[ μ ] – εγλ 1984/03/14 15:34

(The camera pulls into focus on a small boy sitting on a folding chair in front of a large table. The boy has silver hair going down to the top of his shoulders. He is barely able to reach the table. It isn’t visible but he is probably sitting in a booster seat. He is looking at someone else, presumably the adult turning on the camera.)

Adult Woman: Can you look at the camera and say your name?

Boy: (nodding, turning to look at the camera) Sephiroth.

Adult Woman: Good. How old are you?

Sephiroth: (holds up four fingers)

Adult Woman: Can you tell that to the camera?

Sephiroth: I’m four.

Adult Woman: Good job!

(The woman steps into frame for a bit before sitting in another chair out of view. She can be seen wearing a long, brunette ponytail for the seconds she’s in frame.)

Adult Woman: We’re going to be talking about some everyday things before getting into why we’re here, okay?

Sephiroth: (nods)

Adult Woman: Do you know who I am?

Sephiroth: (he stares at the woman for a few seconds before shaking his head)

Adult Woman: (very long pause) (clears throat) My, um, my name is Lucrecia. I’m (long pause) one of the scientists here.

Sephiroth: Ohh. (nodding) Do you know where the Professor is?

Lucrecia: Professor?

Sephiroth: (touching his face) He has a beard and glasses.

Lucrecia: Professor Gast? I don’t, I’m sorry.

Sephiroth: Oh. (gets quiet and looks down at the table)

Lucrecia: Do you know why you’re here?

Sephiroth: (shrugs) Tests?

Lucrecia: What kind of tests?

Sephiroth: (looks away from her and the camera) (looks back at Lucrecia) What do you mean?

Lucrecia: What do they have you do?

Sephiroth: Oh, uh, putting the same blocks together, naming colors, naming numbers and letters.

Lucrecia: Why do you call them ‘tests’?

Sephiroth: Cuz they write down what I do.

Lucrecia: But how do you know what a ‘test’ is?

Sephiroth: (shrugs) I hear them talk about it. “Let’s go over some tests.”

Lucrecia: And what do “tests” do?

Sephiroth: Measure things. Like how fast I do things and if I do a good job?

Lucrecia: (pause)That’s, um. (longer pause, the sound of rustling papers) Right, that’s right. You must be very smart!

Sephiroth: Thank you.

Lucrecia: Anyway, that isn’t quite why we’re here, but I do have something for you.

(The rustling of a paper sack can be heard as she takes a box out of a bag and puts it on the table. There’s a colorful picture of a beach on the top of the box. Sephiroth stares at it but doesn’t reach out and grab it yet.)

Lucrecia: Do you know what this is?

Sephiroth: (looks at Lucrecia and shakes his head)

Lucrecia: It’s a puzzle! Look. (reaches over and opens the box, pouring the puzzle pieces out) See, if you fit the pieces together, they’ll look like the picture on the box.

Sephiroth: Oh! (starts to flip the puzzle pieces right-side up with sudden interest)

Lucrecia: Do you want to put that together while we talk?

Sephiroth: Okay! (keeps flipping the pieces and then organizing them into different piles)

Lucrecia: Great. Before we start, we’re going to go over some ground rules first, okay?

Sephiroth: (nods)

Lucrecia: If I say something and you don’t understand what it means, you can say that you don’t know. If I ask, “Sephiroth, what’s your ocular hue?” you would say…

Sephiroth: Green.

Lucrecia: (pause) You, um. (rustles papers) Do you know what that means?

Sephiroth: Eye color.

Lucrecia: Right. Most people don’t know that, so if I say a word you don’t know, just tell me, okay?

Sephiroth: Okay.

Lucrecia: Okay. And you have to promise me that you’ll tell the truth. You’re not in trouble or anything like that. All I want to know is how you’ve been doing. Do you know what the truth is?

Sephiroth: They’re, um (pauses, looks off to the side) facts. Things that happened.

Lucrecia: That’s right. (points to the box) If I tell you that this is a picture of a desert, is it a truth or a lie?

Sephiroth: A lie.

Lucrecia: What’s it a picture of?

Sephiroth: Costa del Sol.

Lucrecia: (pause) Ah, do you recognize it?

Sephiroth: It says “Costa del Sol” on the box.

Lucrecia: Oh, you can (long pause) um, read now?

Sephiroth: (nods, brings his attention back to the puzzle) Yeah.

Lucrecia: W-Wow. That’s incredible! Have you started reading books yet?

Sephiroth: (nods, isn’t paying that much attention while he’s working)

Lucrecia: Do you have anything you like to read?

Sephiroth: The Professor’s books.

(The sound of a pen clattering to the floor can be heard)

Lucrecia: (unintelligible, Lucrecia is probably away from the microphone while picking up the pen) -understand what he’s writing?

Sephiroth: (squinting at Lucrecia, stopped working on the puzzle) What do you mean?

Lucrecia: You’re talking about what he wrote, right?

Sephiroth: (nods)

Lucrecia: So, what mako is, how materia works, do you understand what he’s writing about?

Sephiroth: (unsure tone of voice) Yes?

Lucrecia: It’s fine if you don’t. Remember what we said about the truth?

Sephiroth: I know what materia is.

Lucrecia: Tell me about materia.

Sephiroth: It lets you do ma-(stops) (slaps his hand over his mouth)

Lucrecia: Lets you do what?

Sephiroth: Sorry! I’m sorry.

Lucrecia: What are you sorry for?

Sephiroth: (leans in, whispers) I’m not supposed to say the m-word.

Lucrecia: What’s the m-word?

Sephiroth: (looks up at Lucrecia) (doesn’t answer)

Lucrecia: You can use that word here. You won’t get in trouble.

Sephiroth: (long pause) M-Magic.

Lucrecia: Oh! Sweetie, you’re fine. Most people call it that.

Sephiroth: But it’s _not_ magic.

Lucrecia: I know. Who told you that you shouldn’t call it that?

Sephiroth: (sighing) Hojo.

Lucrecia: Oh, haha, he can be a real stickler for that kind of thing, can’t he?

Sephiroth: (doesn’t say anything) (goes back to working on the puzzle)

Lucrecia: That’s silly of him, isn’t it?

Sephiroth: (shrugs)

Lucrecia: Let’s go back to materia, okay?

Sephiroth: (pause) (puts his hands down) Okay.

Lucrecia: What does it do?

Sephiroth: It’s knowledge. It talks to the Planet and helps you do things.

Lucrecia: (sound of pen on paper) Like what?

Sephiroth: Don’t you know this?

Lucrecia: (still writing) I want to know what you know about it.

Sephiroth: (silence) (squints at Lucrecia)

Lucrecia: (stops writing) Is something wrong?

Sephiroth: (quieter than normal) You said this wasn’t a test.

Lucrecia: (extremely long pause) Did I?

Sephiroth: You said you were here for something else.

Lucrecia: (clears her throat) (puts the pen on the table) You’re right. I’m sorry. You’re right, that isn’t why we’re here.

Sephiroth: (looks at the pen) (looks back at Lucrecia) I can talk more about materia.

Lucrecia: No, you’re fine. I got a little too excited, is all. What do you like most about Professor Gast’s books?

Sephiroth: (shrugs) (goes back to his puzzle) I dunno. I miss him, I guess.

Lucrecia: Did you used to do things with him?

Sephiroth: Yeah.

Lucrecia: What kinds of things?

Sephiroth: This, like asking me stuff. Then I’d get a present like a book.

Lucrecia: No toys?

Sephiroth: (shrugs) I dunno. He never had any? I liked the books, but he’d give me baby books, so I asked for bigger ones.

Lucrecia: What are baby books?

Sephiroth: The ones with pictures in them.

Lucrecia: Do you not like those?

Sephiroth: They’re boring!

Lucrecia: I see.

Sephiroth: I’m not a baby.

Lucrecia: I can see that, you’re four now, aren’t you?

Sephiroth: Yeah, I’m old.

Lucrecia: Haha.

Sephiroth: (continues working on the puzzle, happily) (the puzzle is about halfway done at this point)

Lucrecia: (long pause) (quietly) You’re doing a good job on that.

Sephiroth: Thanks.

Lucrecia: (another pause) (deep breath) Professor Gast is out traveling for his research.

Sephiroth: Oh! Cool.

Lucrecia: I can-(pause) try to contact him and see if he’s able to call you.

Sephiroth: Really?

Lucrecia: Of course.

Sephiroth: What’s he researching?

_Lucrecia sees a town in flames. She sees her little boy in the middle of it and knows that, not only did you do this, but everything is about to become so much worse. She knows this because the Planet tells her this, which is a special kind of irony that she refuses to acknowledge._

_She sees you turn and-_

Lucrecia: (coughs) Oh, um, about the Planet.

Sephiroth: Mmn. (nods) (keeps working on the puzzle, almost finishing) What about the Planet?

Lucrecia: Planet communication.

Sephiroth: Ohh. Like what materia does?

Lucrecia: Yes, that’s right. (pause) Sephiroth, do you remember if Professor Gast ever asked you about that?

Sephiroth: (shrugs) About materia?

Lucrecia: About talking with the Planet.

Sephiroth: Oh. (puts the last piece in) Look, I’m done.

Lucrecia: I see. Good job! Has Professor Gast talked with you about the Planet?

Sephiroth: Uh. (looks down at the finished puzzle) I dunno.

Lucrecia: Do you know what you talked about with him?

Sephiroth: Um. (looks off to the side) Sometimes he asked if I ever heard voices?

Lucrecia: What kind of voices?

Sephiroth: Voices that you shouldn’t hear, but you do. (pause) Is that what you’re asking me?

Lucrecia: Yes. Do you hear voices whenever you’re alone?

Sephiroth: (shakes head) No.

Lucrecia: I see.

(Lucrecia reaches for the pen and starts writing again)

Sephiroth: (stares at Lucrecia for a long time) Am, uh, am I _supposed_ to?

Lucrecia: No, it’s all right. As long as you’re telling the truth, you’re fine.

Sephiroth: (long pause) Can other people hear them?

Lucrecia: No, not usually. I was just curious.

Sephiroth: So-(another pause) If other people can’t hear them, why are you asking _me_?

Lucrecia: Ahh.

_Lucrecia is standing next to your bed. You’re sound asleep, unaware of her presence. Lucrecia isn’t doing anything. She’s just standing there, holding a pillow._

_It would be so easy to fix this. She could do it while you sleep. It would be so easy. It would be for the good of the Planet. You would go peacefully, even though you’d struggle. You wouldn’t even know who did it, or why._

_Maybe she should find something that works faster. She could find some tranquilizers Hojo has lying around and…give you a bit too much. You’d drift off peacefully. Then she could take some too. If she damaged Shinra property like that, she might as well. They’d execute her for that one. At least you’d go together._

_No._

_Tears splattered onto the floor. Lucrecia covers her face with one hand, her other hanging at her side, still holding the pillow._

_No._

_None of this was your fault._

_You never asked to be here._

_“I’m sorry,” she whispers, her mouth still covered. The pillow falls to the floor._

_“I’m sorry,” she says again, and keeps saying it, over and over. It’s been getting harder for her to breathe, over these last few months. Her legs have been feeling so weak. She has been tired all the time, every day, for years now, and they still expect her to come in to work every day._

_Lucrecia needs to get out of here._

Sephiroth: (painfully long pause) (stares off into space, his eyes glazing over)

Lucrecia: Sephiroth? (taps on the table in front of him) Sephiroth.

Sephiroth: (shakes his head) (looks at Lucrecia and then shrinks back, frowning)

Lucrecia: Are you okay?

Sephiroth: (silence) (just keeps staring at her)

Lucrecia: (pauses, waiting for him to say something) Did something happen?

Sephiroth: I’m done now.

Lucrecia: Done with what?

Sephiroth: I’m done. Bye. (Sephiroth tucks his arms into his shirt, then tucks his head into it, like he’s a turtle hiding in its shell)

Lucrecia: (very long pause) Oh, uh. Okay?

Sephiroth: (still hiding in his shirt) I’m not talking to you. I want the Professor.

Lucrecia: I’m sorry, he isn’t here.

Sephiroth: (pause) (an arm reaches through the sleeve, only to forcefully smack the puzzle pieces off the table, ruining the finished puzzle)

Lucrecia: Okay. (her chair pulling away can be heard as she immediately stands up) Okay, we’re done. It’s okay. I’m sorry. We’re done. (she leans into the camera to turn it off) (she’s starting to tear up) (quietly) We’re done.

(end recording)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Hi. It's been awhile, hasn't it? Here, take this. It's written in a different way, but take it anyway.
> 
> It's funny, the timeline is so weird. Sephiroth acts like he remembers Gast, but apparently he left when Sephiroth was a baby? Lucrecia stuck around longer than him, and the more I thought about it, the more interested I got. Imagine working in the place where your son was but you couldn't be his mother because he wasn't "yours" anymore. You didn't give him up for adoption, he's just Shinra property now. What would you do? I probably couldn't take it!
> 
> Lucrecia made a couple of mistakes in this interview. Can YOU spot them? Tell me in the comments, or say anything else in them, for that matter.


End file.
